


Tame the Ghosts in My Head

by lit_chick08



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Comment Fic, F/M, Spoilers, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-06
Updated: 2012-03-06
Packaged: 2017-11-01 13:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lit_chick08/pseuds/lit_chick08
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was all supposed to be Robb's, but somehow it has fallen to Jon to be the Stark in Winterfell.</p><p>or <i>What if Jon accepted Stannis's offer at the end of ASoS?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Tame the Ghosts in My Head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [midnightblack07](https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightblack07/gifts).



> A comment response to the ficathon at

Jon was never meant to be the Lord of Winterfell; he was always the bastard, the Snow in the land of Starks, and he was supposed to serve at the Wall while Robb lived the life of a lord.

But Father is dead, Robb is dead, Lady Catelyn is dead, Arya is dead, Bran is dead, Rickon is dead, and Sansa is missing, presumed dead, and Jon is the only one left, the Snow in the land of Starks.

When Stannis legitimizes him, names him Lord Jon Stark, Jon opens his mouth to protest, to say, "That is not my name," but he doesn't. How many times had he prayed before the heart tree for the chance to be a Stark, to be recognized as a son equal to Robb?

Jon would have gladly remained a bastard if it meant his family lived again.

* * *

Val was beautiful, more beautiful than any other woman Jon had ever known, but Jon knew Val was not like the highborn ladies in the south. She was like Ygritte: intelligent, uncompromising, _lethal_. If he made the mistake of underestimating Val, it would be the last mistake he ever made.

Her expression when Stannis told her she would be marrying him made Jon chuckle and Stannis scowl even harder than usual. It was the look of a woman who was entirely unimpressed, the sort of look which said, _I am not yours to own, to order, to take._

Jon did not want to own her; he wanted to _know_ her.

He was certain the feeling was not mutual.

* * *

When they arrived at Winterfell with Stannis's men, taking back the ruins of what was once a great castle, Jon felt colder than he ever did beyond-the-Wall. What Theon Greyjoy had done to Winterfell and its inhabitants made Jon feel less like a man and far more like a child of Rickon's age. Even Ghost seemed mournful as he padded through the ruins.

"You are the lord of rubble," Val drawled with a hint of an amused smirk, and, if she had been a man, Jon would have struck her then for mocking the desecration of his family's legacy.

Instead he retorted, "And you will be its lady."

Val didn't smirk after that.

* * *

Jon was not surprised when Val refused to say the vows before the heart tree; Stannis elected one of his men to be Val's proxy, and, when Jon tried to fasten the Stark cloak around Val's shoulders, she punched him in the face, splitting his lip.

He did not try to kiss her.

* * *

They did not have a proper bedding ceremony at Jon's request, certain any men trying to strip Val of her clothing would result in several murdered soldiers. Instead several of Stannis's men escorted her to one of the few chambers untouched by the fire, guarding the door against her escape until Jon entered.

In the flickering candlelight, Val was so beautiful, it stole Jon's breath. She still wore her dress, and, in her hand, she clutched a heavy candlestick, the heft certain to cave in Jon's skull if swung with enough force and rage.

He stripped down to his smallclothes and climbed beneath the furs, keeping his back to Val. It was a dangerous move, making him vulnerable to attack, but Jon wanted her to know she had nothing to fear, that he would not try to force her, to _steal_ her.

Jon heard her set the candlestick on the bed side table before blowing out the candles, climbing into bed but keeping a careful distance from him.

"I am not yours," Val whispered across the mattress.

"I know," he whispered back, closing his eyes and trying to summon the memory of Ygritte.

* * *

Even destroyed, Winterfell brought forth constant memories. Stannis could not spare men to help rebuild, but the Stark bannermen began to trickle into Winterfell to swear fealty to him. They brought supplies and food, the men offering to help with repairs, the few women doing what they could on the interiors. It would take ages before Winterfell was truly Winterfell again, and, with every restoration, Jon was reminded of all those who were lost.

One of the Manderley women cleaned his father's chambers, returning it to its former glory; Jon knew she meant it as a gift, the grandest room for the lord, but, as he stood there, all Jon could think about was how it was never meant for him. And then he saw Ned as he last remembered him, so serious with features much like Jon's, and Jon felt dizzy, sinking to the bed, hanging his head in his hands as he realized how disappointed his father would be at having raised an oathbreaker.

 _You could break your vows to claim Winterfell but not to join your brother on the battlefield_ , his conscience pointed out, and Jon did not realize he was not alone until he felt someone touch his cheek, fingers wiping at warm tears.

Val stared at him, her mouth pursed as if trying to puzzle something out, and Jon wished he could take comfort in her, wished she loved him as Lady Catelyn loved his father.

Instead she said, "That's enough, Lord Snow."

* * *

There were rumors Rickon was alive, hidden away on Skagos with a wildling woman who was serving at Winterfell. For the first time in years, Jon began to hope again, trying to summon every memory he had of his youngest brother. If he lived, Rickon would be five now, and Jon could scarcely believe only two years had passed since they were all at Winterfell, carefree children who spent their days at play.

Jon saw Shaggydog first, Ghost running out to meet him, and then there was Rickon, riding double with a woman Val called Osha. He grabbed Rickon from the saddle, laughing and crying as Rickon clutched him, and Jon began to wonder if the others might be alive too, if mayhaps he was not the last Stark after all.

Rickon took to Val easily, and Jon couldn't help but smile at the softness she used with his brother. Sometimes he would find Val and Osha speaking in the Old Tongue, Rickon rolling about the floor with Shaggydog, and Jon could almost convince himself things were normal, that everything would be alright.

But then Rickon would ask, "Where's Arya? When is Bran coming back? Will Sansa be home soon?" and Jon would remember.

* * *

There was someone on top of him.

Jon jerked awake, his hand reaching for a dagger, when Val caught his wrist. He wondered if she was finally going to end their marriage with the edge of a blade, but then he realized she was nude, her other hand working its way into his smallclothes.

"What," was all he could gasp, so confused and aroused in that moment, he was not even sure he would have even known his own name.

"I'm stealing you," Val declared as she slid down upon his cock, catching his moan in her mouth.

* * *

Jon awoke to an empty bed, and he was almost certain he dreamed everything until he found a bruise on the thin skin over his hip. As he dressed, he tried to think of what he would say to Val, the questions he wanted to ask.

He found her in the remains of the glass gardens, digging through the snows to find any salvageable plants or seeds, and, for a moment, he nearly lost his nerve. Finally, when she did not acknowledge his presence, he asked, “What was last night?”

Her smirk was equal parts amusement and exasperation. “I thought Ygritte taught you all about what we did last night.”

“I meant - “

“I know what you meant.” Val rose, her back straight, shoulders back, and Jon wondered why he never felt as composed as Val always seemed to be. 

Ignoring her question, he pushed, “Why?”

“Because I _wanted_ to.” Shaking out her golden curls, Val said, “I did not want to marry you, and your false king made me. I did not want to come here, and your false king dragged me." She sighed before bluntly stating, "I don't love you. I just don't wish to sleep alone anymore." 

Jon was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out what he wanted to say, before gesturing to their surroundings. “There's much work to be done.”

“There always is.”

In the yard, he could see Rickon chasing after Shaggydog and Ghost, the men carrying stones to rebuild walls as the snows fell around them. Someday Winterfell would be great again, would be the castle of his youth, a place where Rickon could safely grow to manhood, where his own children would hopefully grow to adulthood, the Starks of Winterfell.


End file.
